


Pearls

by seb



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Awkward First Times, Cuddling, Hair touching, It's literally just Jake touching Dirk's hair, M/M, POV Second Person, physical affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seb/pseuds/seb
Summary: He’s asleep when you get home.▬▬▬Jake takes the opportunity to cop a feel of Dirk's hair and boy howdy does it not/work out.





	Pearls

**Author's Note:**

> This was written over the course of a few months when I was sometimes good at writing and sometimes not. Sorry for the bad times.  
> It is also completely unbeta'd and terribly mediocre, I wrote it as a vent kind of thing whenever I was upset and isolating, oh boy I'm so nervous to post it but here we go!  
> SORRY FOR EVERYTHING,

He’s asleep when you get home.

The science channel is on low a few feet away, the subtitles dictating some extraordinary thing about the universe with dizzying images and equations. Dirk must have dozed off during a mean How It’s Made marathon earlier.

Dirk’s face is resting on his crossed arms, freckled cheek squished comfortably on his elbow and feet dangling off the side of the couch like some kind of madman. His pyjama pants have somehow rolled up to his thighs- probably from his constant shifting in his sleep. You’ve been shoved around in bed with half-assed, Strider-esque, slurred apologies enough times to be aware of how disruptive those legs can be.

His lips are parted, deep breaths whistling softly through his teeth. Dirk will never let you say he snores, but allows himself to be a mouth-breather. You’re quite possibly in love with a monster.

You’re too relieved to be annoyed. The blond’s sleeping schedule has been practically nonexistent as of late, and seeing him rest so deeply is a dream come true. He looks most at peace like this- body warm and lax, relieved of tension, gangly limbs without any of their regular meticulous movements.

His hair is still done up, spiked ends crushed against the arm of the couch. He’ll be pissed when he awakes, but for now you’re allowed to be overly enthused about his careless.

And, perhaps, you can allow yourself to… cop a feel.

It’s obviously not often you get to run your fingers through Dirk’s overzealous mane, what with how much time he puts into it and how protective he is of his perfect ‘do. Though not the soft bird’s nest you’ve adored since the first post-shower morning you’d seen it, you left yourself explore this terribly familiar territory at last.

It’s sticky. First piece of information to note. All the products he uses makes each strand feel like crisp, old paper that crinkle and bend at your touch. From root to tip, his hair is completely lathered in whatever the hell he uses to manage it, and you’re suddenly unsure of this venture.

You awkwardly pet his hair a few more times, running your fingers through it in  _ multiple  _ directions to see if maybe it was just the angle. It wasn’t.

“Jake,” you hear, and you freeze. You suddenly realize your predicament. It is near nine in the evening, you are in a wrinkled suit and tie with reusable grocery bags likely leaving deep indents in your arms, and you are knuckle-deep in your sleeping boyfriend’s untouchable hair.

“Hello, dear-” you start, but Dirk doesn’t let you get any farther.

“What,” he murmurs, amber eyes blinking sleepily open as he slowly rouses from sleep, “in the ever-loving  _ fuck  _ are you doing, exactly?”

You gingerly stroke his head in a terrible effort of trying to get it back to how it looked before. There is no hiding the deed you’ve done. Your hand is tacky with product and you can feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Ah, you know,” you start, placing your hand on his elbow for leverage as you lean down to kiss his temple. “I’m admiring my beloved boyfriend’s decision to close his pretty eyes for once. How long have you been out?”

You busy yourself with unpacking the groceries in the kitchen, knowing full well Dirk’s staring you down incredulously. If looks could kill, you wouldn't have made it a foot away from the man himself.

“Couple hours,” he responds. The springs of the couch creak as he stands and  _ oh dear _ , you’re really in for it now, aren’t you? He’s mobile and there’s not a nerf gun in sight to defend yourself with.

To your surprise, he walks right past you without another word, opting out of possibly tackling you to the tiled floor of your kitchen and instead quietly making his way to your bedroom.

The water is hot from the faucet as you wash the produce (after scrubbing your hand clean, how does Dirk go about his day with his head feeling like  _ that _ ) and soon you pinpoint the reason why: the hum of the shower running rumbles on the other side of the wall.

You feel a bit guilty. The two of you shared a long, sleepy shower just this morning- the fact that he’s taking another so soon means you drastically ruined his hair. You sigh, silently cursing yourself for being so curious and touchy as you dry your hands. Now you’ll have to get ready for bed alone- though you think you might deserve that.

When everything’s put away, you divest yourself of your suit, turning on the TV Dirk lovingly placed in your shared bedroom so you could doze off to whatever old movies rolled through.  _ No Country for Old Men _ is playing once the screen flickers to life and you excitedly climb into bed, socked feet wiggling underneath the blanket. You usually keep the volume off and subtitles on, as to not disturb Dirk when he works or tries to sleep next to you, and you do the same now to hopefully quell the anger he surely feels towards you right now.

You don’t notice the bathroom door open. Llewelyn’s just crossed the border when the bed shifts next to you and you jump at the distraction.

“Sorry,” Dirk says, eyes tired and hair  _ down _ , and a little damp, obviously- he must have vigorously dried it to get it so dry so quietly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s… fine, you’re fine,” you reply, arm coming up to settle on the shoulder opposite yours. To your surprise, it goes straight down as Dirk  _ lays his head in your lap _ , oh my lord, and curls up in the blankets.

“Um-” you start brilliantly as he lifts your hand from his shoulder and slowly moves it to his head. You think of any and every moment and event you have shared in your life. Is it your birthday? Hanukkah? The fucking anniversary of creating the universe?

He glances up at you, sideways and just as curious as you are. “Figured it’d been long enough,” he mumbles, twisting his fingers in the cotton draped over him. He’s wearing a different t-shirt than he was on the couch- he’s wearing  _ yours _ , Jesus fucking Christmas he’s going to kill you. “We should be taking our relationship to the next level.”

You bark out a laugh, unintentionally lacing your fingers through his hair and oh my is it soft without all that product, silky strands cascading down his forehead from your touch. He squints an eye and your heart pounds. He’s so vulnerable and precious and you know he’s nervous from the way he’s keeping his vision trained on you and the fidgeting of his hands and you love him so much, love that he trusts you with this side of him that no one else in the  _ entire universe _ knows.

“Thank you,” you murmur, carding through his dirty blond locks as he relaxes on your legs, attention shifting to the movie. One of his hands reaches for yours cast aside on your thighs and laces your fingers together, two gestures with millions of words between them that the two of you will never be able to express but always will be able to understand.

“Chigurh about to find him in the hotel?” Dirk asks, voice syrupy slow and muffled. You hum in reply, brushing his thumb with yours and pulling gently on his hair. He yawns and you nearly squeal, so glad to find a way to soothe your boy at last, even if he’ll hate you for it in any moment that isn’t this one, where he gave you blatant permission to undertake the control he loves so much.

He slowly drifts off to Snooze Station, and you follow shortly after, laying next to him with a hand on his chest and the other cradling his head, smoothing down the strands he’ll so proudly bring to stand in just a few hours. But for now, they are yours to soothe.

**Author's Note:**

> Dirk's hair is crunchy and greasy except for when he wants his boyfriend to pet him okay
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated! Find me on tumblr at testifyds B3


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